


The Imperial's Tale

by magnificentmay



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Multi, tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 14:46:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6380494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnificentmay/pseuds/magnificentmay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The plan was to travel through Skyrim to High Rock.  For Selona Varro, the plan changed.  But she's adaptable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Imperial's Tale

It could be worse.  It could always be worse.

Of course, dying in a foreign country for something as stupid as border-hopping alongside a wounded and weakened pack of traitors was already pretty bad.  But it could be worse.

And then it was.  And then it wasn't.

Now Selona Varro was stumbling after an Imperial soldier—one who seemed to lack much training—down a dirt path away from the burning city of Helgen.  The blonde rebel called it that.  She hoped he'd made it out, but that wasn't likely.

She wondered if, by some chance, had she done anything differently, could she have missed the rebels and not been caught up in all this.  She supposed it didn't matter now.  Maybe she was close to untangling herself from this mess.

The Imperial soldier was shaky and anxious, rambling and stomping down the slope in large strides that Selona had to jog to keep up with.

Selona reckoned that she should be feeling the same anxiety, too, she'd always thought dragons were a myth, but the exhaustion and fatigue of the past days—days without food, water, and rest (until she passed out against, of the whole pack of rabble, Ulfric Stormcloak—that’s what the man who stole her horse called him—the leader of the rebellion)—her shivering was from exhaustion and the chilly breeze.

"These are the Guardian Stones," the soldier said, stopping so suddenly that Selona ran into the back of him.  He didn't budge, of course.  Nords. "Three of the ancient Standing Stones that dot Skyrim's landscape.  See for yourself."

Each of the stones were intricately carved with figures of different focuses and were thrumming with magic, the prickling energy that came with magicka perceptible even from their place on the steps.

A warrior, a thief, and a mage.  Well, a warrior—never, that was laughable.  A mage, now that was a brilliant dream.  And a thief... she banished the thought.  That was no great path, she knew, not that she ever wished for a "great" one.  A normal one, that would be nice.

In the end, she shook her head, turning away away from the Stones.  A few steps brought her to the slope leading to the riverbank, and she dropped heavily into the dewy grass.  The soldier followed her seating himself next to her, his arms wrapped loosely around his knees.

"Listen," he said, awkwardly wringing his hands, "as far as I'm concerned, you've earned your pardon."

"What for?" Selona asked, and the soldier nearly jumped, glad to finally hear her speak, or just to hear another voice at all.

"For your, ah, crimes."

Selona looked him in the face.  He must have been over a foot taller than her, but she could see directly into his eyes while they were both seated.

Her voice quivered almost imperceptibly. "What crimes do you believe I've committed?"

His lips twitched, and he swallowed roughly, and Selona knew she'd caught him.  He didn't have a clue why some of those characters were on the carts, he was just blindly following orders.  How many Imperial soldiers just like him just ignored blatant disregard for protocol and let (relatively) innocent people go to the block?  She knew plenty did in Cyrodiil, except the sometimes-innocent went to the gallows instead; she shouldn't expect that it would be any different in Skyrim.

"I'm not sure.  But the Captain must have had good reason for her decisions." He added quickly, "But, like I said, you've earned your pardon.  In my opinion. We still need to get that cleared with General Tullius in Solitude.”

“Can you be sure he survived?” Selona nearly winced at how harsh her clipped tones sounded compared to the soldier’s rumbling voice. 

“I have faith.” It sounded more like desperation than faith, but Selona didn’t voice that opinion aloud.

“Is Solitude close to the High Rock border?”

The solider shrugged, then rolled his shoulders. “It’s closer than here is to it. Still a good ways away.”

“Great. So I am not pardoned for the crime I didn’t commit?”

“I don’t know that you didn’t commit it.”

“Do you know what “it” even was?”

She already knew the answer to that, but the twitching of his mouth and diverting of his eyes cleared up any doubt she may have had.

“Is it now legal," Selona said flatly, weariness leaving her voice devoid of any identifiable emotion, “to sentence a suspected—and, I swear to you, completely innocent—traitor to death without trial? That’s what she called me. Renegade.”

"I... it isn't." There was indignation in his tone, but Selona wasn't sure as to where it was aimed.

"I should have said something," the soldier said heatedly. "I knew you shouldn't've been on that cart... I'm sorry."

Selona sighed heavily. "I'm not blaming you.  I see this all the time back home.  But one can't just disobey their superiors' orders.  It's complicated."

The soldier nodded, but Selona could see in his face that he didn't agree.  She liked this one.

"What is your name?" He asked, pushing up into a crouch.

"Selona.  Varro."

"'Selona,'" he repeated, standing. "I'm Hadvar.  C'mon, Riverwood isn't far now."

Hadvar held his hand out to help her up.  She took it, but the act of standing made her head spin, her face crashing into his chest.  He grabbed her shoulders to keep her from falling over.

Concern shown evidently in Hadvar's hazel-eyes. "Are you alright?"

“M'hm.  Just tired." And starving, and fatigued, and in pain, and scared out of her wits, but one thing at a time. 

Hadvar wasn’t convinced, and kept a hand on her arm. “Alright, let’s just keep on then.”


End file.
